A/N - I am sorry for the immense delay and thank you for not losing hope (hopes you didn't). A nice longer chapter for you...
"Damn it," John muttered, "Sherlock really picks his moments!" No sooner had the sentence passed his lips than the cab had stopped and Sherlock had jumped out, thrown some money to the driver, and was already dashing to Lestrade by the big doors. John had rushed after him and by the time he had caught up, Sherlock had spoken to the grieving widow and was walking towards the doors. John sighed; one of these days Sherlock might actually let him join in fully instead of dashing off, finding impossible facts and astounding everyone, making them feel stupid and insecure about their IQ, whilst expecting them to see all the facts.
John took a deep breath and focused on the case at hand. Mustn't get too caught up focusing on Sherlock's Case 5. He felt rather paranoid now; he felt like some blood cells in a test tube being prodded, tested and told what they are. But he had enjoyed it – that much was definite.
Sherlock was walking around in a circle by the time John had caught up, the hanging chain being the centre point. Slowly he moved inwards looking at the ground, the chain and the knot. He smiled and looked at Lestrade. "Boring and simple." Lestrade stared back at him; he really shouldn't feel incredulous every time Sherlock did this but he couldn't help it. Lestrade was a top notch detective turned average plod when compared to Sherlock.
"Ok, explain," he said, trying to regain control of the situation.
"Oh, well I thought even you could have worked out it is murder." Lestrade stared. Sherlock began to walk swiftly towards the door. Lestrade called after him. "Sherlock!" Sherlock turned, rolling his eyes.
"When you look at the body, look at the hands; there will be bruising and cuts, the shoulders will also be strained and possibly dislocated. He was hanging on." He pointed upwards to the rafter. Sherlock turned around, took a couple of steps and then turned back. "Oh, and arrest that woman and her lover." Lestrade raised his eyebrows and Sherlock sighed. "Roger!"
John glanced up and then down at the floor. He shook his head, glanced at Lestrade, glanced at the widow who was looking shocked and then raced off after Sherlock.
For once Sherlock was waiting for John in the taxi. How Sherlock had got a taxi that quickly in an industrial estate John had no clue, but he clambered in and it drove off.
"We're going back to Baker Street. Glaswegian cousin is emailing through some pictures. You might be able to help."
John stared at Sherlock "I might?"
Sherlock stared back. "Yes – I wasn't talking to the driver."
"How might I?"
Sherlock looked back seriously. "Because when it comes to trivial cases such as stealing in a community, the obvious is not always obvious to someone who thinks differently, as in logically."
John smirked. "Ok Sherlock." Sherlock admitting faults was so rare that John liked to savour them. He sat back, grinning, and looked out of the window.
Sherlock muttered, "Inferiority complex." John stopped smiling and turned to Sherlock who was now texting on his phone. Now he was sure that was a jibe at him but Sherlock could have been muttering aloud about the text. John decided to ignore it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sherlock get a little notebook out and write a small sentence about halfway through the book. As he turned to look closer Sherlock shut it and put it in his pocket. He looked up at John. "Case notes for an ongoing case."
"That book is for one case?"
Sherlock grinned. "Oh yes, I've already used up one notebook on it." John hurriedly looked out of the window trying not to think about the book and vehemently hoping it wasn't him in it. He told himself off; paranoia isn't good.
Sherlock dashed out as soon as it had stopped, leaving John to pay the driver, and by the time he had made it upstairs Sherlock had John's laptop out and was checking his emails.
John sat down opposite Sherlock and knocked a couple of books off the arm of the chair. He caught them and stared. "Case 5" he muttered. Oh God, sudden realisation hit him, this was the chair. He collapsed back into it and stared at the ceiling. After a moment he registered a change of sound. The typing had stopped and a pen was being used. John could just picture Sherlock's long fingers gripping the pen, shifting up and down as he adjusted it to keep writing. John's eyes burst open; Sherlock really had freed his mind if imagining him writing had become erotic. He tried to counteract these thoughts by thinking of something horrible or annoying. Harry burst into his mind and he allowed himself a grin at Harry being used to counteract a possible hard-on.
"Hmm..." Sherlock murmured and glanced at John in a calculating way that made John want to blush. John raised his eyebrows faking expectancy. Sherlock's eyes widened and he went back to the laptop with a mutter of "Come and look John." John stood up carefully, making sure not to knock off any more books and moved to the side of Sherlock's chair, kneeling down.
On the screen was a picture of a young girl holding a trophy. Sherlock clicked and the image changed to a broken back door, an empty glass cabinet and then a newspaper clipping. Sherlock looked up at John "There isn't enough information to reach a logical conclusion that explains the theft."
John smiled "Well the article says she has won this trophy for four years?" Sherlock nods, "So, maybe it is a simple case of jealousy? A main rival in the field."
"She is a child, John."
"Yes, but maybe a parent?"
Sherlock considered it and then flicked back to the broken door. He pointed to a spot, John leaned forward to get a closer look and Sherlock breathed in deeply, the smell of John drawn deep in to his lungs. John turned and Sherlock smirked. "I am merely curious as to the effect a smell has on desires and feelings of the body."
John paused, the couple of inches between him and Sherlock seemed planned, his eyes were burning with curiosity; they were drawing John in, closer and closer. They met, noses clashing and Sherlock arched backwards, John leaning forwards the boundaries forgotten, the open door forgotten, the laptop on the lap forgotten. It slid to the floor. Sherlock's cock no longer restrained by its pressure became an obvious bulge. "John," he moaned, and John climbed on top of him, kissing him and allowing Sherlock's tongue to once more joyfully explore the mouth that wasn't his own. John's hands slid down and gently massaged the bulge pressing up at him, Sherlock's breath caught and John grinned, pulling out of Sherlock's mouth and kissing him on the neck. John had given in completely to the thoughts that had been occupying his mind all day and he ready to take it a step further. He slowly slid down Sherlock, kicking the laptop aside, his hands reached up and once again massaged Sherlock's cock. He moaned and jutted forward. John quickly unzipped Sherlock's trousers and pulled them down.
Such a difference to last time, Sherlock's cock was ripe and waiting, he was panting with the effort of staying still, John took a deep breath and kissed one of Sherlock's balls, he licked his way along the quivering cock and stopped. He licked the end slowly. He wasn't so sure now; could he really do this? Perhaps not.
"John!" Sherlock panted; he was in control again, he had Sherlock at his mercy. He glanced up and saw a slight glimmer of the calculating Sherlock peeping through the desperate man he saw in front. "Not yet," he muttered, No, that would take a lot more thought and processing. Sherlock moaned and his hands reached down pulling John up, kissing him abruptly before once more frantically undoing John's trousers, desperate for John to be free too.
He pulled John down and a shiver of delight went through John as once more the hard cocks collided, his breathing was becoming more laboured as Sherlock's fingers snaked round his cock and started to move, catching the most sensitive areas and causing both of them to lean in towards each other. John reached down and began to work on Sherlock's cock while Sherlock concentrated on his own, they were becoming faster the hand movements less rhythmic and just when John thought he was about come Sherlock stopped moving his hand, John kept going, the sensation amazing and electric and Sherlock shuddered releasing with a cry of "Oh John!". Now Sherlock pushed John away, John looked worried, but then Sherlock leaned forward, taking John's cock in his mouth and sucking hard. Despite the laboured breathing Sherlock leaned it further and pulled back, leaving his tongue to trail the underside and John arched back. He hadn't had one of these for, well, a while. Sherlock did it again and John felt his muscles clench. Was Sherlock ready for this?
"Sherlock," John moaned, and the eyes darted upwards, the tongue licking the end of his cock with a flick and John lost the breath in his body. As Sherlock leaned in again and sucked, John released. Sherlock shuddered slightly but stayed calm, slowly withdrawing and swallowing, his eyes looking up at John's with fevered delight once more shining. They clouded over slightly as he pulled himself back on to the chair and he sat there for a moment staring at John, who came to his senses and stumbled backwards collapsing into the chair.
They tidied themselves up and then stared at each other, the bond between them strengthened and changed. There was a creak on the stairs and Mycroft walked in. Sherlock and John looked at each other and then burst out laughing, Mycroft merely rolled his eyes and sat down on the sofa awaiting a sensible discussion.
A/N - So, what do you think? Please tell me!
I feel I must explain the delay and in a complicated way. I am only able to write this when in the right Mindset and the boys are willing to be written. They were refusing, but now I think they have their own way.
This time, the next chapter will be quicker!